Our first three children's names were relatively easy, all names we talked about while dating or in the early stages of our marriage. We knew Reagan would be our first daughter. And we liked Warren and Dean equally, so it worked out extremely well that they were twins so we didn't have to choose. But that was as far as we got in our planning process before reality set in, things got difficult, and we never knew if we would have any children, much less more than 3. So, we never really discussed it again.
While silently facing infertility, our pastor did a sermon series on 1 Samuel. I so wish I had downloaded it so I could go back and listen. Anyway, 1 Samuel opens with the story of Hannah. Hannah, suffering for many many years with infertility, watching her husband's other wife conceive and deliver child after child, tormenting her and rubbing it in her face. I felt tormented, I felt like people were rubbing their fertility in my face as I got yet another baby shower invitation or saw another pregnancy/birth announcement come my way. But the truth of the matter is, no one was doing that. No one was actually making me feel like less of a woman. No one, that is, except for myself. But not the case with Hannah. She faced this sense of failure in a very real way each and every day, being provoked constantly until she was weeping and unable to eat. She wept to the Lord, cried out to Him. And she pledged to give Him her son if she could only conceive. I know a little of how that feels, though I didn't give my daughter by choice. And I certainly wouldn't have if I had the option. Regardless, it was the first time I listened to a sermon specifically on infertility, the first time I really felt like my struggles, the heartache involved in not being able to conceive, was addressed by anyone. The first time I realized how much God cares for me and this struggle that no one else would talk about. I remembered Hannah and how she continually took her petition to the Lord, how she trusted Him with her son Samuel, the faith required in that act.
Fast forward several years, 3 pregnancies and 4 kids later, and the scar and pain of infertility is still there. There's still a part of me that struggles to wrap my head around the why. And I know I haven't handled it with the grace and faith Hannah did. But I find her and her story worthy of naming my second daughter after, and I can only pray my daughter will have the same faith, with trust in the Lord wholeheartedly as well. And so we've decided on the name of this little one I am carrying..
Hannah Grace Savant
Warren and Dean have learned her name and seem to understand as much as possible that she is their little sister, just as Reagan is their big sister. Both girls are included when they sing Jesus Loves Me, or when they talk about who loves them or who they love. It melts my heart to see them stepping into their new role as big brothers. I'm excited to meet little Hannah, hopefully not until November, but we'll take her any time she comes. I'm ready to see if she looks like me, if she looks like her brothers or her daddy, or if she looks like her big sister.